Coming Home
by susieq666
Summary: In a direct sequel to 'Tipping Point', this explores what happens when Eric finally makes contact with Horatio, after a seven year gap. It's not quite how he expected... but what did he expect? And will Horatio finally stop running and come home? And is 'home' Miami or somewhere else? (Trying to tie up a story I left up in the air!)
1. Chapter 1

COMING HOME

_Previously, in 'Tipping Point'… Horatio leaves Miami hurriedly and secretly, trying to escape his past, but causing deep upset to his friends. Particularly his brother-in-law, Eric. Eric makes some attempts to trace him, but his former boss covers his tracks well. Eventually, Eric is forced to move on, taking a promotion, and becoming the head of the Crime Lab. Horatio is not forgotten, but there is little Eric can do. Seven years pass, before a chance meeting with a murder witness offers him a clue as to Horatio's whereabouts. A few inquiries lead Eric to New Orleans, where, at long last, he finds him. The two old friends embrace… But Eric has never thought beyond this point…_

* * *

><p>Chapter 1<p>

Horatio bent down to retrieve the cane, and handed it to Eric. "What's with this?"

"Oh, I broke my hip. It's okay – just aches if I walk too much."

"Jeez, brother, you're in a worse state than me! How did you do it?"

Eric gave an embarrassed chuckle. "Stepped in front of a car. My own fault. Anyway, it's nothing – just taking a long time to get right."

"Come on, let's go and talk…" Horatio went to pick up his fishing gear, waved a quick goodbye to the other fishermen, then rejoined Eric. "You driving?"

"Yep. Rental – that Honda." He pointed with the cane.

"Mine's the green Jeep. Follow me…"

He followed the Jeep for several miles, back into the city, then out to a quiet road of modest houses. Horatio pulled into the driveway of one, and Eric followed him.

"This yours?"

"Rented."

"Not staying then?"

Horatio gave him a rather sharp look. "Don't know yet. Even if I was, it wouldn't be here. It's not private enough."

It wasn't quite what he wanted to hear, but he couldn't stop himself. "You're not coming back to Miami then?" _Don't push it, Eric…_

Horatio was silent as they went inside. He opened the fridge, took out two beers, and led the way out of the back door. There was a small sheltered yard, a couple of chairs, a table. The neighboring properties were near, but fences and shrubs provided some privacy. They sat, sipping the beer. Eric thought he sensed mild resentment from him, resentment that he was about to be interrogated.

Horatio sighed. "Is that why you came – to make me come back?"

Eric laughed awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood. "Since when could I make you do anything?"

There was a long silence, broken by Horatio. "I did intend to come back. Several times, in fact. Each time, something stopped me. Until… I don't know… I wondered what the hell I'd got to come back to." He noted the shock in Eric's face. "I'm sorry. That sounds harsh, but I've changed, a lot."

Eric cleared his throat. "It's been a long time. But… I thought you liked Miami."

"If I'd liked it that much, I'd have come back sooner, wouldn't I? I didn't need 'fetching'."

"No, of course not, but…"

"Look, I'm not saying this properly. You – yes, I did everything wrong with regard to you – I should have kept in touch – I imagine I hurt you."

"You did. I didn't understand…"

Horatio continued. "At first, I didn't know what to say – I was ashamed, I'd let you all down, you particularly – no, let me finish… Then, just too much time went by…"

"What about the others?"

"It's a long time ago, Eric. They're people I worked with. I was their boss, that's all."

"That's all?"

"I think so."

"So all that 'we're family' stuff… Not true?"

"It was, at the time."

"But not now."

Horatio sighed again. "_You're_ family. The others? Good people. Great people, that I was lucky to work with. But I think I've… let go… I'm sorry if I'm disappointing you. I'm not who you remember. I suppose that's why, as time went by, I thought less and less of Miami as 'home'. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to apologise for. It's your life." Eric sounded more abrupt than he intended.

"No, but I'm still hurting you."

"No, you're not." (He was.) "It's just not how I expected. Well, I don't know what I expected. I don't think I really thought about it…"

"Seven years, brother…"

There was another long silence. At last, Eric said quietly, "Are you lonely?"

"No more than I ever was. Kinda used to it."

"Oh…" Eric didn't know what to say.

There was an even longer silence. Eric blamed himself. He didn't know what he had expected. Sort of picking up where they left off, he supposed. Instead of which, there was an awkwardness between them, almost as if they were strangers. Of course, it was obvious that if Horatio had wanted to return, he'd have done so. If he'd wanted to get in touch, he'd have done so. He hardly needed Eric's permission.

Horatio spoke again. "How did you find me anyway?"

Eric forced a smile. "Remember Frankie?"

"God, yes! Piece of work…"

"She ended up in Miami. Witness to a shooting."

"She didn't know I was here."

"No, but she told me about Los Angeles. The realtor there said you'd gone, but you'd mentioned New Orleans…"

"That was ages ago."

"I couldn't get here sooner. And… well, I've always wanted to visit New Orleans, so I came on the off chance. Asked around a bit…"

"Do you like it? New Orleans?"

"I do. But not as much as Miami. You?"

"Not sure. I've been a lot of places in the last few years. I stayed longest in LA, but that was because of Henry."

"Your dog."

"How the hell did you know that? Frankie again?"

"She gave me a sketch you did of him."

"She stole that," Horatio said, with a faint smile.

"She said. What happened to Henry?"

"He died."

"I'm sorry."

"So was I. That's why I left… Silly really, because I liked the place I had there. I was almost settled, at last. But… I buried the poor little devil in the yard, and then I couldn't bear to stay, because I saw him everywhere. See? I've gotten old and sentimental."

"So you might go back there?"

"I really don't know." Horatio smiled at Eric's perplexed expression. "I'm not holding out on you… I'm just a bit in limbo… Have been… ever since I left. But I don't know about going back to Miami. The memories there might be even worse."

"I suppose I've made it worse, finding you."

He chuckled. "I suppose you have."

"I'm sorry… I never thought…"

"Hey, Eric, don't feel badly. I'm teasing. I get through my days by _not_ remembering. Most of the time, it's fine. This is just a huge reminder of… everything that happened, everything that used to be… That's not a bad thing. Just a shock." He drained the beer can, then got up and fetched another. "Come on, tell me what's going on… Who's still around?"

Eric felt that Horatio was indulging him, rather than really wanting to know, but he answered anyway. "Ryan and Calleigh are still there. Walter – he got married… Natalia went back to the FBI and moved to Quantico."

"That would suit her… Frank?"

"Retired. Gone back to Texas, I believe. Martinez is still Chief – I think he retires next year. That's about it, for people you know. We've just moved to a new building."

"Really?"

"Yep – about twice the size. We only moved a week or so ago, but I think it's going to be good." Eric tried to force some enthusiasm into his voice. "I liked the old place, but we'd expanded beyond its capacity…" His voice trailed off. "Horatio, can I tell the others?"

"What? That you found me?" He chuckled. "Yeah, if you want. Don't give out my address or anything – I don't want to become a stop on the tourist route. Not that they would, of course… I'm flattering myself."

"You might be surprised. Walter wanted you at his wedding… Calleigh will be hurt if I don't tell her…"

"I'd just rather not." He hesitated. "Let me think about it…"

"You and Calleigh were always close, I thought."

"_You_ and Calleigh were close. I always expected something to come of that."

"So did I, once. But… well, she seemed special to you. I was a bit surprised you didn't contact her."

"You want to know why?" Horatio hesitated. "I was very fond of Calleigh, but… I don't know how to explain without you misunderstanding… I sometimes found her a bit too much. Too relentlessly chirpy… Her cheerfulness and my melancholy – 'specially at the end - recipe for disaster, outside of work. Not that it was ever put to the test. Then, she adopted those kids and… the parenting thing really doesn't interest me. Too old…"

"But back then… I mean, you loved kids… You were known for it."

"Only other people's. The ones I could hand back."

"But… No, never mind."

"But what? Say it, Eric."

Eric was floundering, stunned by how little he seemed to know Horatio. Had he changed so much? He suspected it was more to do with the amount that Horatio had once kept hidden. Or his own memories had simply become rose-tinted over time.

"But what?" Horatio prompted. "Marisol?"

"I thought… I mean, she said…"

"That we might have children. I know. And if we had, we'd have been okay, I promise you that. But… I'd spoken to her doctor by then, and…" He hesitated. "…I knew it wasn't going to happen."

"You lied to her?"

"No, I just didn't tell her the truth." He looked at Eric. "Are you angry?"

"No… Just confused… You're just not how I remember you."

"Maybe that's your memory, not me." He gripped Eric's knee. "Don't feel bad, brother. I never was what you thought I was."

Their silences were getting longer.

At last, Eric said quietly, "Can I buy you dinner?"

"I'd like that. Shall I come to your hotel?"

"Okay. Look, H, I'm sorry – I think I've stirred things up that you'd rather have left alone…"

"It's a long time since I was called 'H'." He laughed briefly. "No, you haven't done anything wrong, and it's wonderful to see you. We're fine. It's just a bit of a shock." At Eric's doubtful expression, he added, "We could both do with an hour or so to… take stock, don't you think? I'll come round about eight, okay?"

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

COMING HOME

Chapter 2

Eric left, and returned to his hotel. He felt oddly dispirited. He had never really expected to find Horatio, and he was conscious he hadn't thought through what would happen if he did. He hadn't allowed for seven years of change, in both of them. He only hoped they would both relax over dinner. With a sigh, he stripped off and went to shower. As he washed, he thought over their conversation. He realised that Horatio had not only surprised him, but hurt him. He hadn't expected that he would virtually dismiss his past… That his fabled 'team' appeared to have meant very little to him. Logically, he told himself that Horatio had been alone, 'on the run', for seven years; that he'd probably developed a protective façade over anything he had once felt. But his harsh remarks had hurt…

He stepped out and towelled his hair. He accepted he'd surprised Horatio, shocked him, by appearing out of the blue. Had that caused an outpouring of truth? Or, on the contrary, was he saying what he had to discourage further contact? Whatever… it would all be over after tonight. Eric was scheduled to fly back to Miami the next day. He'd go home with Horatio's phone number. And very mixed feelings. He had so wanted a loving reunion…

He slowly dried himself, and selected something to wear. Realising he had an hour or so to kill, he lay down on the bed, locked his hands behind his head, and went on thinking. This was not the Horatio he remembered. The man he had just talked to seemed to care about nothing and no one. Had he really changed that much? Eric doubted it – the Horatio he had known cared about everything – his team, his victims… justice… though not himself. He had never cared much about himself. He took risks, with his physical well-being and with his career. What Eric had just experienced seemed to be a complete turnaround. Or an act…

* * *

><p>Horatio was also in the shower. He stood under the hot water for a long time. He felt peculiarly unsettled, almost depressed. He had meant what he had said, that it was wonderful to see his brother-in-law. It was, almost overwhelmingly so, but it was the first time, in seven long years, that he'd been forced to confront his past. Probably it was a good thing, but he hadn't exactly been prepared for it, nor the feelings it aroused. He knew he'd been uncharacteristically blunt in some of the things he'd said. He'd seen the upset in Eric's face. He felt guilty, particularly as he hadn't even been that truthful. The ability to dismiss past relationships was something he'd developed, in order to maintain some sort of sanity, and to fend off any nosy inquiries. He hadn't meant to hurt Eric – he'd never do that willingly – but the shock of seeing him had been so great that he'd said things without any great thought of the effect his words might have. He was severely out of practice with personal conversations. He knew he'd have to try to put things right over dinner. The trouble was, he didn't <em>want<em> to remember. Didn't want to dwell on what he'd left behind. What he'd lost. He'd almost reached equilibrium, but seeing Eric again had shattered that.

"You're an idiot, pal," he told himself, aloud. "The one person who really cares about you." Or cared, once – and he'd been cruelly casual about the man's sister, his one-time wife; about Calleigh, whom Eric probably still cared for; about the 'team', which had meant so much to them all… once. "Why did you do that, eh?" Worse, was any of it actually true? He only knew he should have chosen his words more carefully.

In the back of his mind, he'd known for a while that he'd have to go back to Miami soon, if only temporarily. He still owned a condo there, one that he had been very fond of, but one which had been rented out for a long time. He wondered what state it was in; whether it could ever feel like 'home' again. Also, he had a storage unit full of the contents of that condo. Clothes – which would be seven years out of date – books, CDs… all sorts. It was costing him – he needed to go and empty it, one way or another. Maybe Eric's visit would spur him into action.

* * *

><p>By eight o'clock Eric felt better. If the reunion hadn't met his expectations, at least he could draw a line under it. He met Horatio in the lobby of the hotel. They hadn't discussed where to eat, but both were dressed 'smart-casual', in accordance with New Orleans' relaxed dress code. Eric was struck again by how well Horatio looked – younger than his sixty-six years. Whatever else, being retired obviously suited him.<p>

"Where are we going?"

Eric chuckled. "I was going to ask for your recommendation… Before that though – do you mind coming to meet someone?"

"I don't know… Who?"

"The guy who helped me find you. You'll like him." He could see the reluctance in Horatio's face, and added, "Just a quick visit, promise…"

Malachi was in his usual seat. He tipped his hat to Eric, then looked at Horatio. A smile spread over his wrinkled features. "You found him then…"

Eric smiled. "I did, thanks to you. Horatio… Malachi…"

They shook hands. "I'm glad. Your man here was breakin' his heart over you."

Eric felt himself flushing at the old man's turn of phrase, but Horatio smiled. "Really? Were you, Eric?"

"Well, not that bad…"

Malachi chuckled. "You say." He summoned the bar tender. "Get my friends here a drink."

Eric sipped his drink, watching Horatio and Malachi chatting amiably. After a while, he leant in and interrupted. "Where should I take him for dinner, Malachi?"

"I thought maybe Kelly's," Horatio added.

"No so good, man. It was, but it's got a new chef… Not always up to standard. Or so I heard."

They both looked expectantly at him.

Malachi pushed his hat back, and scratched his almost bald scalp, while he thought. "You a fisherman… You like eatin' 'em too?"

Horatio nodded.

"You should try The Old Fish Quay then. Ain't cheap…"

"That's all right," Eric said quickly.

"Ain't nuttin' to look at either… But you won't get better fish. So fresh you need to check it ain't still flappin'."

"I've never heard of it," Horatio said.

Malachi smiled, tapping the side of his nose. He gave them directions and they left.

It took some finding. After walking down a badly lit side street, which had Horatio muttering, 'I wish I'd got my gun…' and Eric agreeing, adding, 'Whatever is that old man thinking?', they were considering turning back, sure they had misunderstood.

"We must be near the river," Horatio said.

"Well, if it was a 'fish quay'… Hey, here it is…"

The restaurant had a plain frontage, its name on an unassuming door. They went in, and up some stairs. The place opened out, and delicious smells assailed their nostrils.

"Risk it?" Eric asked with a smile.

"Sure, why not?"

From what they could see, the patrons were an eclectic mix, but the tables and booths were so arranged as to give some privacy. The lights weren't over bright, and the music came, live, courtesy of a piano in the corner. Shutters on one side were pulled back, revealing a terrace, with the Mississippi rolling by outside. As they were shown to a table, they noticed that most diners were sharing vast platters of assorted seafood. Horatio noted shrimp, crabs, oysters, and strips of other unidentified fish.

He murmured to Eric, "Shall we have that?"

"Yeah. Looks good."

As they waited for their meal, Eric felt Horatio studying him.

"What?"

"I was just wishing I could start this afternoon's conversation again…"

"Oh?"

"Well… I said things… I upset you…"

Eric shrugged. "If that's how you felt. You don't owe me anything."

"Not true, brother… And neither were some of the things I said. I've… adopted this hard-ass exterior… It's the only way I could exist. And I found I couldn't drop it that easily."

Eric remained silent.

"Give me another chance?"

"Of course, but only if you tell me the truth – how you _really_ feel about the past. Don't just say things to make me feel better."

"That's fair." Their meal was delivered to their table; plates, forks, dips and seasonings; and a huge array of seafood. "I hope you're hungry…"

They seemed tacitly to agree to eat first, talk later. They soon found out that Malachi's recommendation had been spot-on.

"You know?" Eric murmured, breaking a claw off a crab, "I can't think of anywhere in Miami that's this good."

Horatio, mouth full, nodded.

Finally, after making good inroads into the platter, Eric rinsed his fingers, and leant back in his chair. "God, I'm full!"

Horatio chuckled. "I've eaten too much. I'll be up all night." At Eric's raised eyebrows, he added, "Indigestion. Price of getting old."

"Good though."

The waiter came to clear the table. "Dessert, gentlemen?"

"Give us ten minutes…"

They relaxed, and Eric watched Horatio hesitate over starting to speak. "Go on… What did you really mean to say?" he prompted.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

COMING HOME

Chapter 3

"I implied that none of it meant anything to me…" Horatio said awkwardly. "Not true… I've just… pushed it to the back of my mind… Become detached…"

"I can understand that."

"The team… my team… of course you were all special to me. All of you, but you and Calleigh especially."

"So what you said about Calleigh?"

"A little unfair. I loved Calleigh, although she did irritate me occasionally. We had a deep friendship, I think, but it was never romantic – oh, I know some of the rumors. In that sense, we were incompatible… but yes, I loved Calleigh…"

"You know you hurt her, by leaving without a word?"

"I know. Well, I suspected… although she was greatly involved with her kids by then…"

"Didn't alter what she felt for you."

"I don't suppose it did. I know how badly I behaved, Eric."

"Horatio, this isn't the confessional. I wanted to buy you dinner, not make you uncomfortable! You just… surprised me…"

Horatio smiled ruefully. "I know that. But I should put a few things straight. I did mean some of what I said about kids, by the way. I know I had some… rapport with children – some people have it with dogs, or horses. With me it was kids, but the older I got, the less patience I had. I think I offered Calleigh less empathy than I should have, when she adopted… She expected my support, and I wasn't really able to give it." He was silent for a while. "Anyway, I'm perhaps not quite the hard-ass that I sounded."

"I'm glad," Eric chuckled. "I didn't actually believe you were."

Horatio said cautiously. "No?"

"Considering you were once known for caring almost _too_ much… No, I didn't think you'd changed so completely."

They were silent for a while, Horatio looking out towards the river. Eric watched him, but dropped his gaze as Horatio turned back.

"What about you? Married, engaged? Divorced?"

"No, nothing like that."

"You surprise me."

"Do I? Not committed enough, H. Oh, I still like women…"

"I've no doubt. I know you've got my old job… you can find anything on Google… How's it going?"

"Good, I think. It took me a while to settle in to it. And I've got an assistant who does most of the admin. I'd like more time on the streets."

"Oh, I know that feeling."

"Mind you," Eric laughed, "the first time for ages that I went out, I got run over."

The waiter came back. Both men ordered dessert, though Horatio muttered, "Probably unwise…" He looked at Eric again. "So how long are you here for?"

"Go back tomorrow – Saturday."

"Oh…" His face fell. "Couldn't you stay 'til Sunday?"

"Maybe." Eric was unaccountably happy that Horatio wasn't ready to see the back of him. "I'll see how the hotel's fixed for another night… In fact, I'll do it now." He pulled out his cell phone and spoke for a few minutes, then shook his head. "They're full…"

"Stay with me," Horatio suggested. "I've got a spare room. Not much, but it's got a bed…"

"I'll need to contact the airline, and the car rental…"

Horatio smiled innocently, and Eric laughed. "All right. Sunday it is. I'll check out tomorrow and come over to yours."

"Good."

They concentrated on their desserts – delicious and surprisingly light lemon-flavored bread pudding.

"I haven't got room for this…" Horatio muttered.

"Nor me."

Nevertheless, they both cleared their plates, and moved on to coffee.

"So how did you come across Malachi?" Horatio asked.

"He sits at that bar every day, as far as I can tell. We just got talking. Well, I'd had a bit to drink… and I started telling him about you, and how I was searching… His granddaughter's a PI, and… that's how I found you. How old do you reckon he is?"

"God knows – anything up to about ninety." He laughed. "Colorful turn of phrase he's got."

"He has that." Eric sipped his coffee. "Tell me about Henry."

There was a fond smile. "What's to tell? He found me really. He was a little lost soul. I gave him a home. But he had an untreatable heart problem… They said he wouldn't live long, but he lasted about four years… I loved that dog, you know?"

Eric nodded, smiling inwardly at an unmistakeable moistness in his friend's blue eyes. He didn't comment on it, merely saying, "I'll give that sketch back to you tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"I didn't know you were artistic."

"Oh, I'm not that. But sketching… something I used to do… long time ago." Horatio yawned. "Sorry – past my bedtime. I'm an old man now."

"I have to say, you look pretty good on it."

"Yeah, wrinkles and all."

"I'm serious. You seem… relaxed, I suppose. Less stressed."

"Nothing to stress about. In fact, my life's generally boring. Trouble is, I'm not a social person."

"You never were. When we all went out for drinks, you'd drop in, and drop out…"

"I know." Horatio agreed. "I have no desire to play golf, or cards… No desire to make friends really. My habits are generally solitary. Fishing, sketching… a bit of photography… A lot of reading."

"You should get another dog."

"I might. But Henry would be a hard act to follow." He smiled. "I think I should go home, before I fall asleep."

* * *

><p>Eric arrived at Horatio's the next morning, and joined him in the back yard, with a coffee.<p>

"Did you sleep?" he asked.

"Badly," Horatio replied, pulling a face. "I ate far too much last night."

"Me too. I even skipped breakfast this morning. Except for coffee and toast."

They sat in silence for some minutes, before Horatio said, "I've been thinking… about Miami."

"Mmm?"

"Well, I need to go there – whether permanently or not." He explained about the condo and the storage unit. "I'm not looking forward to… looking at my past."

"Can I do anything to help?" Eric kept his tone mild, while secretly delighted that he seemed to have stirred Horatio into action.

"Probably, when I get there."

"When are you thinking of going?"

"Don't know yet. I'll check with the rental agency. I won't rent the place out again when the current lease is up. Then I'll take a look at it and see if I want to sell it or not. I imagine it'll look a bit… worn."

Eric shrugged. "Coat of paint. New drapes…"

Horatio nodded doubtfully. "The place was new when I bought it. I know they – the management company – have had to replace some things… fridge… A closet that needed a new door…"

"Just wear and tear, boss. You can easily make it yours again."

"What did you call me?"

"Sorry. Habit."

Horatio chuckled. "Old habits, eh? I really don't know about the condo. I'll have to see how I feel, once I see it."

"H, you won't slip in unnoticed, will you? I mean, you'll let me know?"

"I will. Promise. I'll call you."

"I've been thinking too. I wondered… will you ring Calleigh?" Eric hurried on, before he could protest. "If I tell her I've seen you, the first thing she'll ask for is your phone number. Now I could say I don't have it, but she'll never believe me…"

"No, I see that…"

"You said not to give it to anyone, and I won't…"

"Don't fret, brother, I'll call her. Not right this minute; sometime this week… Okay?"

Eric smiled ruefully. "I've really stirred your life up, haven't I?"

"Yep."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It needed stirring up. I've been marking time, avoiding things, for so long. I needed a kick in the ass… Honestly, I'm glad. Or I will be."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

COMING HOME

Chapter 4

It was Tuesday before Horatio felt prepared enough to call Calleigh. He timed it for about seven in the evening, Miami time. Late enough for her to have left work, early enough to catch her even if she was going out for the evening.

Her cell rang for quite a while before it was picked up, and a male voice said, "Hello?"

Horatio was completely taken aback. True, he'd never asked Eric if she was with anyone, but he'd have mentioned it… surely?

Surprise got the better of his manners, as he said curtly, "Who are you?"

There was silence, and he quickly apologised. "Sorry… That was rude… I wasn't expecting…"

The man chuckled. "It's okay. It's Austin. You wanted Calleigh?"

Austin? _ Austin?_ He thought of the curly-haired little boy, did a quick sum and realised he would be sixteen or seventeen. In any case, his voice had broken, and he sounded like an adult. Horatio cursed himself for starting this difficult call so badly. _Pull yourself together, man!_

"Yes, if she's there…"

"She's in the shower. Shall I take a message?"

Horatio hesitated, trying to think of a suitable message. Then, in the background, he heard Calleigh's unmistakable voice, calling, "Who is it, honey?"

"Who shall I say?" Austin asked him.

"Tell her it's Horatio. I'll call back…"

He heard Austin call, "Horatio – he says he'll call back…" Then he heard indistinct voices, and Austin came back on, laughing. "She says 'hold on, she's coming'."

Within seconds, he was talking to Calleigh. "Horatio… Is it really you?"

"It is. Sorry I interrupted your shower…"

"I'd just about finished. Hang on a minute – I'm just going to the bedroom…" He heard a door shut. "Oh Horatio… It's been so long…"

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Eric said he'd found you. Seven years, Horatio. Seven years! Where were you?"

"Oh, here and there. How are you, Cal?"

"I'm fine. You?"

"Good."

"Why didn't you keep in touch?"

"Oh, Cal…" He sighed. "I don't know. I was ashamed… I needed to be alone for a bit. Then I kept trying to come back, but… Somehow, I couldn't face you all again. Everything seemed so… wrong."

"I thought we were friends… We'd have looked after you."

"We were. We are… I hope. I don't know, Cal. I thought I was doing the right thing. At least, what I needed to do. And Eric didn't need his former boss hanging around."

"Eric missed you so much. So did I."

"I know I made a lot of wrong decisions. I can't undo it. Only apologise."

"Oh, sweetheart… You don't need to do that. Where are you? Still in New Orleans?"

"Yep."

"I love that city! But… are you… coming back?"

"It seems probable." He smiled. "It'll be next month… if I do."

"Oh, too long!" She sounded as if she was smiling too. "I so want to see you again."

"Good. I wasn't sure…"

"What? That I'd want to see you? Don't be crazy, Horatio! You were… well, everything… head of our family…"

_Family. That word again._

When he didn't immediately reply, Calleigh added, "Keep talking."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything. It's just wonderful to hear you. Eric said you were going to call, but I didn't quite believe it, after all this time."

"I doubt I would have, if Eric hadn't found me. I thought… I thought I'd found a way to live… until he stirred me up. I mean, that's a good thing."

"Are you living alone?"

"I am."

"All the time? No one in your life?"

He chuckled. "Only a dog… for a few years."

"Eric said. Still, I'm kinda surprised some lady didn't snap you up."

"Come on, Calleigh, you know me better than that."

"Oh, sweetie, you must have been so lonely."

"I managed not to dwell on it." He hesitated. "This is so difficult, over the phone."

"I know. So come and see us."

"I will. I promise. When I can get my condo back." He explained briefly about the lease.

"You don't have to wait. I've got room. Eric's got room."

"I know… but I need… Oh god, Calleigh, I'm not sure what I need! I don't know why it feels so hard to come back!"

"Sweetheart, don't feel pressured. I understand… Really I do. Take your time – whenever you feel ready. We'll be here for you."

"I don't deserve you."

"Horatio, if we only got what we deserved, it'd be a pretty sad life… Don't you think?"

"You don't have a sad life, do you, Calleigh?"

"My life's very happy. Though not at all how I expected it to be."

Horatio chuckled. "Nor mine."

"I think yours hasn't been happy at all."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. It's had its moments." They were silent for a while, then Horatio added, "I can't do this over the phone… We need to be sitting quietly somewhere, with a glass of wine… Look, I _will_ be back soon, I promise."

"Mind that you are, my dear. No having second thoughts…"

With some reluctance, they said goodbye.

Calleigh sat on the edge of her bed, numbly unwrapping her wet hair. Her throat felt tight, and tears stung her eyes. _What are you crying for, you fool? Happiness? _She wasn't sure what she was feeling. Maybe just shock at talking to him again. Maybe hearing the hints of how unhappy he'd been. Yet Eric had said how well he'd looked, how he'd seemed content… Well, she needed to see for herself. She blew her nose and set about drying her hair. She was conscious that Horatio had always been able rock her equilibrium, and he was still doing it.

* * *

><p>"Horatio called me last night…"<p>

"He said he would." Eric hesitated. "How did you think he sounded?"

"I don't know. Not particularly happy. He kept apologising for what he'd done."

"He did that with me too."

"I think he's finding it difficult to face us again…"

"Well, he doesn't have to, does he? It's not as if he's going to make some grand entrance into the lab. He's already spent time with me. Now he's talked to you. Anything else… it's up to him… I admit I'd like to show him the new place. I'd like him to meet the two Peters. And Steve."

"I don't think he should be pushed. He sounded… a little fragile…"

Eric chuckled. "I am not going to push him. As if anyone can push Horatio – he hasn't changed that much! I'm just glad he's coming back. Whether he stays – I think it depends how he feels when he's back in his condo. He did say he might sell it. He's afraid it won't feel like his anymore. I tried to convince him that tidying it up – restoring it, if you like – is nothing. I've promised to help."

"Has it changed round there? I mean, is there new building or anything?"

"The last time I was there – nothing noticeable. It still had its ocean view. And his favorite beach." Eric sighed. "But I haven't been that way in over a year. I'll drive past and have a look at it – from the outside, of course. It's still got tenants at the moment." He smiled suddenly.

"What?"

"I've still got a key to that place, you know."

"You wouldn't go in?"

"Not while it's occupied, Calleigh! But afterwards… I'm curious, I suppose. And if there are any horrible shocks, I'd like to see it before he does. I'll maybe talk to the letting agents." He looked at Calleigh's pensive expression. "What are you thinking?"

"That we're talking about him like… I don't know… like he can't take care of himself. Yet he's done just that, for seven years. I don't think _I_ could do that. Seven years, alone."

"He always was one tough man. It's easy to forget." Eric chuckled. "And, as I said, physically he looks really good. Right, Cal, nothing we can do for now. At least we're in touch with him again. Now we'd better do some work."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

COMING HOME

Chapter 5

It was over four weeks before anyone heard from Horatio. Yes, Eric had been tempted to call him, but some instinct warned him not to hassle the man. Calleigh seemed to treat his silence with more equanimity.

When Eric inquired as to whether she had heard from him again, she simply said she had not, but 'he'll call when he's ready, won't he?'

And he did. Wanting a favor, which Eric was only too glad to provide…

"My place is empty now. I wondered if you'd mind picking up the keys from the agents, and…" He hesitated.

Eric chuckled. "You know I've still got a key, don't you?"

Horatio laughed. "Won't do you any good, brother. They've changed the locks at least twice – when tenants took off with the keys."

"Oh, I'll stop keeping it safe then. Yes, I'll pick up the keys, and..? Do you want me to go in?"

"It's daft, but I want to know… if it's changed. How worn it looks. Do you mind?"

"Of course not. I drove past the other day. It looks the same from the outside. The beach looks much the same. A few less palm trees after one of our hurricanes, but that's all. Where are you?"

"Still in New Orleans, but I'm packing the place up. Promise. I'll probably leave next week…"

"Driving?"

"Oh yes. I'm not going to hurry."

"Quite right. Look, I'll visit your place in the next couple of days, and phone you. Is that okay?"

"Thank you. I know I'm being stupid about it… But, aside from me, you're probably the person who remembers what it looked like."

"No, you're not being stupid. You're coming home. It's got to feel like home."

"I don't think it'll do that. But I don't want too much of a shock. They've said they'll have it cleaned… and they'll check it, but their checking and mine are probably different." He sighed. "Oh, I don't know! I don't know why I feel so apprehensive. It's just somewhere to live, isn't it?"

"Horatio, stop trying to second-guess yourself. You'll either want to stay there or you won't. But you'll have to give yourself a little time there. Personalise it again. Walk on the beach."

"When did you become so sensible?" Horatio smiled. "You're right, of course. I'll wait to hear from you. And thank you."

* * *

><p>Eric was sitting on the bed in Horatio's condo when he phoned. "Hi, boss…"<p>

"Don't call me that. Where are you?"

"In your gorgeous beachside condo… It still is, by the way – gorgeous."

"Really?"

"Of course." Actually, being inside the place had brought back all sorts of memories. Eric could only imagine how it would be for Horatio.

"Be honest. How does it look?"

"Seven years older, but no damage that I can see. It could do with a coat of paint – the walls are a bit marked. And, of course, it's very empty-looking. It needs a few books and pictures. What else… Oh yes… you know those floaty drapes you had, over the glass doors to the balcony – they're gone."

Horatio was silent, so Eric continued.

"Kitchen and bathroom look okay. Bedroom… the mattress is a bit saggy, and there are a few dubious stains…"

"Can you get it replaced?"

"I can, if you tell me what you want. How much to spend."

They talked for a while, and Eric left having promised to replace the mattress, meet Horatio when he got to Miami, and help him restore the condo to its former glory. He was pleased to do it – it would give him a chance to spend more time with Horatio. Get to know him again.

As it turned out, the lab had a very busy week. Conscious that he hadn't much time, he delegated the mattress-buying to Steve. He had worked with him for some years now, and trusted him completely.

"Get exactly what he says – he can be fussy about these things. Make sure you're there for the delivery and make sure they take the old one away." He handed over the keys.

"Will do, boss." Steve tossed the keys in his hand. "So your Horatio's coming back… I can't wait to meet him."

Eric smiled ruefully. "I don't know whether you will. He's a bit… reluctant to come back at all. So don't spread it around. I know and Calleigh knows, but he doesn't want a reception committee."

"Understood. One day, you must tell me what happened when he left…"

"One day, I might."

Steve reported back – 'job done' – just three days later, handed the keys back and added, "What a great place. How could he leave that?"

"Complicated man, Steve. But yes, it is a great place. I hope he can still feel like that."

* * *

><p>Just over a week later, Eric pulled up outside the condo, behind a travel-stained green Jeep. Miami wasn't putting on the best weather to welcome back her wandering son. It was raining – a sort of fine drizzle that didn't seem much, but soaked you to the skin anyway. He got out of his car and walked to the Jeep. It was empty; well, empty of a driver; the back was loaded halfway to the roof with bags. His immediate thought was that Horatio had gone inside, but, of course, he – Eric – had the keys. He looked towards the beach and immediately saw his friend. Horatio was standing with his hands on his hips, gazing at the ocean.<p>

Eric went back to his own car, reached for a waterproof jacket, then walked slowly towards Horatio. In jeans and tee-shirt, his friend was making no allowances for the rain. He was soaked.

Eric walked up beside him and murmured, "You're getting wet."

"Mmm…" He didn't turn towards him.

"You okay?"

"Not really."

"What? Being back here?" When Horatio didn't reply, Eric walked round to face him. "Is it so bad?" Then he frowned. "You're white as a ghost. What is it?"

He smiled then. "Just lack of sleep and too much driving, I expect. Or I've picked up a bug. I really don't want to think it's psychosomatic."

"But you're not well?"

"I don't feel great, no."

"And you're standing here, getting soaked! Come on, let's go in."

They stopped at the Jeep. "We might as well take a few bags up with us…" Horatio opened the tailgate.

"Tell you what – can you put your hand on bedding, towels…? You can have a shower and a lie down, while I get the rest."

"I don't need that."

"Are we going to argue every step of the way?" Eric murmured amiably.

Horatio shivered suddenly. "Shower's probably a good idea." He rummaged around in the Jeep and eventually identified the right bags, one of which he tossed to Eric. "I've no idea how I accumulated so much stuff."

"We'll get it all inside, then have a sort-out…"

They took the elevator and walked to Horatio's door. Eric handed him the keys. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Eric followed Horatio inside, alert for any reaction. There was none, or very little. He walked from room to room, then murmured, "I remember seeing it like this when I first bought it."

"And?"

"I liked it then. I like it now." He turned into the bedroom, examined the new mattress, still in protective plastic, and nodded his approval. "You found one – well done."

"Hellish expensive…"

"I know, but if you can't be comfortable in bed…"

"Confession, boss," Eric said. "I had to get Steve – my assistant – to buy it. I got really busy, and – "

"It's okay. He's good, your Steve, is he?"

"A marvel. And he doesn't gossip. I don't know how you managed without an admin assistant all those years."

"I'm too bad at delegating. I'm sure you're better at the job than me."

"Oh, rubbish!" Eric chuckled. "We're arguing again."

Horatio went to switch the hot water on, then returned and opened the doors to the balcony. He leaned on the rail, Eric beside him. "My favorite palm tree's gone."

"I told you we'd lost a few. Why your favorite?"

"I used to sit under it and think. Did some of my best thinking there. I'll have to find another one… Right, I'm cold and I'm dirty – I'll go and have that shower."

By the time Horatio emerged, towel-wrapped, from the shower, Eric had made up the bed, and was returning with a couple more random bags from the Jeep, and a bag of groceries from his own car.

Horatio gestured towards it. "Are you mothering me?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Eric retorted. Then he smiled. "No, just a few basics – milk, bread… I'll do a proper shop for you if you want."

"No need. I can do it online."

Eric nodded. "Okay. How do you feel?"

"Bit more human."

Eric headed towards the kitchen. "Good. What I did bring was coffee…"

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

COMING HOME

Chapter 6

It took Eric the best part of an hour to empty the Jeep, lining up the bags on the floor. Horatio let him, without argument. He had unearthed some clean clothes, and then started unpacking his belongings.

At last, Eric threw himself onto the sofa. "Right, that's it."

Horatio smiled sweetly. "Thank you, brother."

Eric glanced at his watch. "Sorry, but I'm going to have to leave you. I want to go back into the lab… Will you be all right?"

"Of course. You should have said if you've got urgent work."

"Nothing I couldn't delegate for a few hours. Nasty double homicide. I just want to see if there's any progress. Sorry…"

"Hey, I understand. I haven't forgotten what it was like."

"I'll try to get over tomorrow evening. Then I'll hope the weekend's free."

"Look, don't worry about me."

Eric smiled. "But I do, I do. I'll try to get a couple of days off next week. Maybe we can start on your storage unit. But listen, if you don't feel better tomorrow, call me."

"I'm not ill, just… under the weather. Eric, go! I'll be fine."

Eric nodded. He tossed the car keys to Horatio. "I've put your Jeep in the parking garage. That's some mileage you've got on it. Have you had it all the time?"

"Yes. I bought it here before I left. Great car. It never let me down. It got run into in San Francisco, but that wasn't its fault. Or mine."

"I've got to recommend a replacement for the Hummers. Maybe I'll talk to you some more about that." He got up, and, reluctantly, left to go back to the lab.

* * *

><p>It was early evening, but he found Calleigh and Ryan still working. He took a progress report from Ryan, and suggested he called it a day. As soon as they were alone, Calleigh looked at him curiously.<p>

"Where have you been? You look like the cat that ate the canary…"

"Personal business." But he couldn't hide a smile. "With Horatio."

"He's back? In Miami?"

"Yes. Just."

"How is he?"

This time, he hedged a little. "Okay. Tired… he's driven a long way today."

Calleigh read his mind. "Don't worry – I'm not going to rush round there. I'm busy this evening anyway. I'm so looking forward to seeing him again though. God, seven years, Eric… How do you catch up on seven years?"

Eric sat down beside her. "I don't know. Maybe you can't. He hasn't really said anything about what he's been doing. We seemed almost like strangers at first. We're just beginning to talk like we used to." He sensed that she was a little hurt that he had been the one to welcome him back. "I expect he'll call you soon, to meet up. He _is_ tired at the moment and… I don't know… a bit fragile."

"Physically or mentally?"

"Bit of both, but mostly about being in Miami, I think. I'm not sure what he feels. _He's_ not sure what he feels."

"And you're feeling protective."

"Shouldn't I?"

"It's not a criticism, Eric." She touched his cheek lightly. "You've always been like that with him."

"I love the man, Calleigh. What he did… Well, it may have put my feelings on the back burner for a while; I even tried to hate him for taking off like that… But it never really changed, you know?"

"I do."

"I never really understood how Horatio's mind worked. And he _needed_ protecting. I know all about his many strengths, but his instinct for self-preservation was always a bit lacking."

"I know. He'd put himself in danger without a second thought. No one else, just himself."

"Not just that. He had no political self-preservation either. If he felt he had to go against the rules, or the powers-that-be, he did." Eric smiled. "In fact, if he hadn't been so damned good, they'd have fired him years before. And if he hadn't broken all the rules, he'd have had Martinez's job at least."

They were silent for a while, then Calleigh asked, "Has he changed?"

"I don't really know. I suppose he must have. But it's hard to tell – he's not overly chatty at the moment. I kept waiting for that black sense of humor to emerge, but it hasn't. Yet."

"Do you think he'll stay?"

"I think he might. He's got to be tired of travelling. He's not a young man anymore. I don't know, Cal. If he's revealed anything, it seems to be that he developed an affection for California. Even then, I'm not sure if it was the place, or the fact that he found a little furry friend there – his dog, Henry. But… if I was a betting man, I'd guess he'll stay."

"Perhaps we should direct him to the dog pound."

Eric chuckled. "One step at a time."

* * *

><p>Horatio phoned Eric the following day. "Eric…"<p>

"Boss." He couldn't stop calling him that. "How are you?"

"Fine – long night's sleep, and I'm better for it. You know you said you'd come round tonight? Can I take a rain check on that?"

"Of course."

"I thought I'd ask Calleigh out for a drink. What do you think?"

Eric laughed. "I think she'll be delighted." He was pleased to hear the perkiness in his friend's voice.

"Okay – perhaps see you over the weekend."

* * *

><p>She couldn't stop looking at him, sitting opposite her. A small table, a quiet wine bar, a bottle of white burgundy… As he'd promised…<p>

Eventually, her scrutiny embarrassed him. "What are you looking at?"

"You."

"And what do you see?"

"That you look good. Eric said you did."

"You look exactly the same, Calleigh."

She laughed softly. "Then you need eyeglasses. I'm about twenty pounds heavier." She touched her face. "A few wrinkles… Oh, Horatio, seven years… I've missed you!"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dropped out like that."

"No, you shouldn't."

They both took sips of wine.

Calleigh spoke again. "I was going to ask you to explain, but I guess it doesn't really matter now."

"Nevertheless, I'll try to explain… a bit." He sighed. "You know what I did to that rapist. You know what the department offered me…"

She nodded.

"I just felt profound guilt. I'd crossed a line I thought I could never ever cross. I felt I was as bad as the thugs we put away."

"Hardly."

"Well, I did. There was no way I could face you, and Eric, and the rest of you. I felt I'd destroyed everything I believed in, and everything I'd tried to teach you. If I betrayed myself, I betrayed the rest of you much more. I felt I had no choice but to go. Let you forget me. I know that sounds arrogant…"

"It sounds sad. Did it occur to you that you'd had some sort of breakdown?"

He gave a small rueful smile. "It was suggested to me. But I didn't accept that. My actions were mine, by choice. Could you see me in therapy? So I left – went on the run. I wanted to be somewhere where no one knew me, or what I was. I don't know how I expected it to turn out." He drank some more wine. "Actually, that's not strictly true…"

When he looked at Calleigh again, she saw the shame in his eyes. "You don't have to do this," she murmured.

"I do. I haven't said any of this to anyone."

"Not Eric?"

He shook his head. "I expected I'd reach rock bottom. I was nearly there, but not quite… I expected to find a quiet forest somewhere, and… well, I had a gun with me… I'd destroy all my ID, abandon the car. It would have taken them a long time to put two and two together. If they found me at all."

She stared at him, but said nothing.

"Don't look like that. It was a long time ago. Anyway, I found that being an anonymous tourist wasn't too bad. I began to feel a bit… freer."

"So where did you go?" Having wanted to hear everything, she now wanted to turn him away from the desperate thoughts he'd had when he left.

"Oh, here and there… as far as Los Angeles."

"You liked California?" She said it cautiously, praying he wasn't thinking of going back there.

"I did, although I didn't intend to stay as long as I did. But Henry wandered into my yard."

"Your dog."

He nodded, his expression softer. "I was never a dog person – well, you know that – but I had a dog when I was a kid… and Henry was as lost as I was. Two strays together. So he stayed. And I stayed." He reached for the wine bottle and refilled their glasses. "After Henry died, I hit the road again… Anyway, enough of that. Tell me what's been happening with you."

"Me? Oh, not much. Austin got over his rebellious teen phase, thank goodness. He's turning into a fine young man. Not very academic – he prefers sports. Patti's the brains. Eric comes round a lot, and acts as a sort of father figure."

"You know how startled I was when Austin answered the phone the other day." He laughed.

"He said you were a bit taken aback. That you thought I'd got a boy toy."

"I'd like to meet them both again. I remember them as little kids." He hesitated. "Do you hear anything about their real father?"

"He died, in prison. Only last year. I told the children, but… honestly, they weren't greatly affected by it. Austin said he supposed he should be sad, but he wasn't; that his father was a bad man."

"He was a weak man, I think. Still, I'm glad he hasn't impacted on the kids. Eric's a much better role model."

Calleigh smiled broadly. "He is, isn't he? He's doing a superb job at the lab."

"I'd expect nothing less. So you two never… er… made it official?"

"No. We've got a different relationship. Different, but better. Eric took a long time to mature. In fact, it was only after you left…"

"Good job I did then."

"Don't say that." Calleigh reached across the table and took his hand, stroking the palm. "Oh, I've missed you. Are you staying?" She'd promised herself not to ask, but the question slipped out. "Sorry, I don't expect you know yet."

"Not really. But I'll be around for a while."

And with that she had to be content.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

COMING HOME

Chapter 7

They left the wine bar shortly afterwards. Horatio had some misgivings about having revealed so much of himself.

Before they parted, he put his hands on her shoulders. "Calleigh… What I said…"

She understood him immediately. "I won't repeat any of it."

"Thank you."

"One thing, sweetheart," she said seriously. "If you ever get near your 'rock bottom' again, just remember you've got people around who love you. Come and talk to us."

"It won't happen again. I don't think I'm the suicide type."

"I'm glad to hear it. And, please, let your guilt go."

"Ah…"

"I mean it. You've paid your dues."

He was silent as he slid his arms round her. He hugged her. "May I kiss you?"

It wasn't a romantic kiss, but neither was it quite a peck on the cheek, and Calleigh realised she never had kissed him before. Their former relationship as boss and employee had precluded it. Now she felt soft lips pressed gently against the corner of her mouth.

He stepped back, and murmured, "Thank you for tonight."

* * *

><p>Eric finally got round to Horatio's condo on the Sunday. It looked different - tidier. All bags except two had vanished. There were even a few books – presumably acquired on his travels – on the shelves.<p>

Eric sat down. "How are you doing?"

"Good." He indicated the remaining bags. "Those are 'thrift store' and 'trash'. I want your opinion on something…" He went into the bedroom, came out with a suit on a hanger, and held it up.

"Mmm… Well…"

"Out-of-date?"

"Well, the pants are a bit wide. As are the lapels…"

"Trash, then. And there are about five more in the storage unit."

"They could be altered."

"When will I need suits like this again? No, they're trash."

"Whoa, just a minute. There's a charity that gets them altered and loans them to unemployed people going to job interviews."

"How do you know that?"

"There's a notice in the thrift store. I took some stuff in a few weeks back." He indicated the suit. "What is that? Armani?"

"That or Hugo Boss." He checked the label. "Armani. I had expensive tastes."

"You don't say. Still, that might help someone get a job."

"I'm getting together a list of stuff I need to replace. The TV's well out-of-date as well. I feel as if I've been in a time warp."

"I suppose you have, in a way. But TVs seem to change every year anyway."

"I've been onto the agents about those missing drapes…"

"And?"

"Big argument, but they're going to reimburse me." He grinned.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Eric said.

"Some of it. Having a purpose again, I suppose, if only to restore an apartment."

Eric followed Horatio into the kitchen while he made coffee. "How did you get on with Calleigh?"

"Very well. She's a good listener. I don't think she's changed very much… She was telling me about her kids, and how you're their father figure."

"I wouldn't say that, but yes, they're good kids. Austin went through a bad patch, but… I suppose a lot of teens do. We managed to keep him out of Juvie."

"She didn't tell me that."

"She was embarrassed about it. That she couldn't handle a difficult adopted teenage boy. Anyway, he and I had a bit of a man-to-man talk, which basically included me scaring him shitless about where he'd end up. I took him round the seedier parts of the city, and on a visit to the county jail."

Horatio chuckled. "Needs doing sometimes."

"I agree. He seems all straight now. You must come and meet them."

They went back and sat down. Eric sipped his coffee. "So what are the plans for today?"

"Next is the storage unit, and I'm dreading that. I just threw everything in there when I left. No idea what state it's going to be in." He pulled a face. "Hell, I don't want to do it today!"

Eric shrugged. "Then don't. Do you still do any running?"

"Man, I'm sixty-six!"

"Gentle jogging then?"

"A bit, though not for a few weeks." Horatio admitted. "You?"

"I haven't, since I did my hip. But I should start. Fancy a run on the beach? Two old wrecks together?" He did briefly wonder if Horatio would object to being called an old wreck, but all he got was raised eyebrows.

"Could be embarrassing."

"Then we'll walk."

They walked together over the rough ground to the beach. It was a fine day, hot, but with a slight breeze.

"You sure your hip's up for this?" Horatio asked.

"God, yes. It's been ages. They keep telling me to exercise. Come on, let's try…"

They set off at a slow jog, and gradually speeded up. Eric could feel the residual stiffness of his injuries, but he knew he needed to work on it. He also knew he was a little heavier than he should be. He glanced at Horatio and noticed he seemed to have no difficulty keeping up. He wasn't even breathing hard.

"You're fit…"

"Try to be. How's it feel?"

"Okay." Eric wasn't going to admit to being less able than a man so many years his senior.

They jogged for about twenty minutes, then slowed down to walk back.

"Wow, I feel better for that!" Horatio murmured.

"So do I. I think…"

"You all right?"

"Yes. It's just been a long time."

Back at the condo, they sat and talked into the evening, till Horatio said, "Can I cook you supper? I've stocked up…"

"Sure. Thank you."

"You wouldn't believe the rubbish they've left behind – odd glasses, plates… Damaged pots…"

"More for your list? Or are you going to argue with the agents again?"

"No, not worth it. I'll replace it."

Eric leant on the counter, watching Horatio cook, then sat with him on the balcony while they ate, and watched the sun go down.

"That was good, thank you. Do you want my help this week?"

"Only if you've got the time… As I said, I'm dreading the next bit, but I can certainly manage."

"I'm happy to help. I just wondered if you… I don't know… wanted some space."

"Help me empty the storage unit… Otherwise I shall just sit there, staring at the past…" He looked down at his hands. "I'm sorry, that sounds pathetic. If you're too busy…"

"That's not what I meant. I just wondered if you'd rather do it alone."

"No – I'm going to need a push to do it at all. There's something depressing about seeing your life in boxes."

Eric chuckled. "I know. I felt that when I moved house, even though it was something I wanted to do. Hell, I even felt it a bit when the lab moved! How stupid is that?"

"Not stupid. It marks time passing. It also says it's the end of a phase, and you can't go back." He laughed. "Sentimental pair, aren't we?"

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

COMING HOME

Chapter 8

There were storage units, and there were storage units… As they pulled up outside, in the Jeep, Eric thought to himself that this was at the higher end, and must have cost Horatio a fortune over the years. His friend had been silent for a while, and still was, as he walked to the door, selecting a padlock key from his bunch.

"If I'm lucky," he murmured, "it'll all have been stolen."

Eric wasn't sure how to reply, so said nothing.

Horatio rolled the door up and paused, for just a moment, gazing into the unlit space. Then he quickly threw the switch, flooding the area with unforgivingly bright fluorescent light. It was better than Eric had expected. While not air-conditioned, the unit, in the center of the building, was not over-hot. It was dry – no mould, and free from dust. There were numbers of boxes and piles of clothes…

"Looks okay..." Eric said hopefully.

"Yep."

They stepped inside.

"So how are we going to do this? Do you want to get everything back, then sort it?"

"No point," Horatio said. "A lot will be trash, so there's no point carting it backwards and forwards."

They started on the clothes, with Horatio selecting what he wanted to keep – very little, it appeared – and tossing the rest to Eric, who then decided whether an item was good enough to be given to charity, or whether it should be thrown out. They worked in silence, Eric keeping half an eye on Horatio, unsure of his friend's mood.

"Suits…" Horatio murmured, after a while. "You got a separate bag for those?"

"Can have." Eric picked up a fresh bag. "You sure about throwing them out?"

"Yep. I won't need suits again."

"You might… Weddings, funerals… Let's see that black one."

Horatio held it up.

"That's a beauty. It doesn't even look dated."

Horatio chuckled. "It's the oldest, so it must have come back into fashion. I abandoned it because it didn't fit anymore."

"Well, you did get a bit… er… heavy, for a while," Eric said cheerfully, expecting a rebuke.

"Steroids – I was prescribed them for my back…"

"What? You never told me!"

Horatio smiled faintly. "Should I have done?"

"No, I'm sorry. I'm just surprised…"

"You thought you knew everything about me? They thought it might help. My back was killing me. It did help, for a while, but I put on so much weight…" He shrugged. "Anyway, that was years ago. Let's see if this fits…"

Willing to indulge his friend, and a lot thinner than he had been, Horatio slipped the coat on. It fit perfectly.

"See? You should keep it."

"All right, to please you. It'll do for funerals, as you say. Or they can bury me in it."

"For God's sake, H!"

Horatio grinned at Eric's reaction. "Comes to us all, brother, though they can put me in a bin bag in a dumpster for all I care. If I'm keeping suits, I'd better keep a few dress shirts too."

He ended up putting aside the black suit and a pale grey one, and several shirts, and a tie or two. Finishing the clothes, he moved onto the boxes.

Half a dozen boxes, identified as 'books and cds', they loaded unsorted into the Jeep. Eric was beginning to relax. Nothing seemed to be upsetting Horatio, and they were more than halfway through.

"Shall we go and get some lunch?" Eric asked.

"Yeah, why not?"

They relocked the unit and took the Jeep to a nearby diner.

* * *

><p>"So they're replacing the Hummers then?" Horatio asked.<p>

"They're not manufactured anymore. And the department ones keep breaking down. I'm being pushed towards GMs – the Feds are using them. I like your Jeep but I'm not sure it's got enough space for all the equipment."

"That one's over eight years old – there might be a longer wheelbase available now. Talk to a dealer."

"I will. I'm impressed with that one's mileage."

"I looked after it. But most of its miles were long cruises. Whether it likes lots of short trips, I wouldn't know."

"I think we should have a new livery… I'm thinking dark blue."

"Sounds classy. Where's all this money coming from?" Horatio remembered fighting for every cent for the lab.

"Not the lab budget, that's for sure. I've been moaning about the Hummers for a year or more, and then we started missing important things because of breakdowns, or having to use our own cars… Then Chief Martinez told me to find something else. I'm not arguing."

They continued their meal in silence. After a second coffee, Horatio stood up. "Come on – let's get the job finished." He sounded enthusiastic.

"You know, you're in a very funny mood…"

"Am I?"

"Well, I thought you'd find it a bit depressing."

"I might yet. We're getting to the difficult bit. You know – photos, odds and sods… Personal stuff."

They turned to the last stack of boxes. Horatio opened the first one. "Pictures… photo album…" He pushed them back into the box, and looked at Eric. "You know, I'd rather do these at home. Do you think there's room in the car?"

"If there isn't, we can make two trips…"

Somehow, they stuffed everything in. All that remained in the unit were bags earmarked for disposal.

"How long have you got this place for?" Eric asked.

"Until Friday. Why?"

"Take a look round, and make sure there's nothing here you want. Then give me the key… I'll come back – tomorrow probably – and empty it."

"You don't need to, but thank you. I'd rather see the back of this place."

They locked up and headed back to Horatio's.

* * *

><p>"Coffee? Or beer?"<p>

"Beer, thanks. It's thirsty work…"

They sat on the balcony. Horatio said quietly, "Thanks for today."

"I didn't do anything really."

"You kept me at it. Sorted stuff out. Made me concentrate, which I wouldn't have done."

They sat in silence for a while. Eric drained the beer can. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask. I don't promise to answer," Horatio said with a smile.

"You didn't tell me about your back, and taking steroids…"

"Oh Eric, leave it! It wasn't that important!"

"No, but… Look, if there was something serious…" He took in the warning look on Horatio's face, but plowed on. "If you ever have something seriously wrong… You'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

"If I'm dying, I'll tell you. Maybe."

"What is it with you and death today?" Eric muttered.

"_You_ asked."

"Will you please take me seriously?"

"All right." Horatio dropped his teasing tone. "You know I like my privacy. I've no intention of imparting every little medical detail to anyone, even you, Eric. That said, if we're talking _really_ serious, like cancer or something… I guess I could tell you. Okay?"

Eric nodded. He was going to have to be satisfied. "I'm going over to Calleigh's this evening. Why don't you come?"

"I haven't been invited."

"It's not that sort of visit. Nothing formal. They'd love to see you."

Horatio hesitated. "I don't know… I don't think…"

"Come on. It'll do you good. I'll pick you up about six-thirty. Okay?"

Horatio laughed. "Bully! All right."

* * *

><p>Eric opened the door with his own key, completely at home. Horatio, hanging back a little, wished he hadn't agreed to come.<p>

"Cal!" Eric called.

"In the kitchen…" Calleigh sounded her usual chirpy self.

"I've brought someone with me. Is that all right?"

Calleigh stepped out of the kitchen, rather flushed, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Her very slight frown turned into a beaming smile. "Horatio!"

"Is this okay?" he asked, a little awkwardly.

"Of course. More than okay."

Eric gave her a peck on the cheek then headed for the kitchen, as Calleigh threw her arms round Horatio and hugged him.

"It's so good to see you. I knew Eric was helping you with some stuff today, but I didn't think he'd manage to persuade you to come and see us."

"He didn't give me a choice…" He looked round as a tall young man clattered down the stairs.

"Austin… Horatio…"

Austin stuck out a hand and Horatio almost winced at the firmness of the handshake. He wouldn't have recognised him. The curly hair had gone. He looked lean, handsome and fit.

Horatio shook the circulation back into his hand, and grinned. "I assume you still play tennis."

"Sorry. I kinda forget that I grip too hard…"

"I'm kidding. So… tennis… you aiming for a career in it?" They moved to sit down, and Calleigh quietly retreated.

"If I can. I'm trying for a scholarship to the tennis academy… You know? Near Tampa?"

"Well, I wish you luck."

"I remember you, you know," Austin said thoughtfully.

"You do? We didn't have much to do with each other."

"I know my father shot you."

Horatio sighed. It was a direction he didn't want to take. "It wasn't anything, Austin. And it was a long time ago."

"Oh, I'm cool with it. Mom – Calleigh – talked to me a lot about him. Eventually I stopped feeling guilty."

"Good. Neither should you. How's your sister?" He smiled at Austin's expression. "Like all younger sisters, I suppose. Infuriating?"

"Not really. But she's so _serious_. She doesn't even drink."

"Is she here? I'd like to see her."

"She'll be back for supper, I'd guess."

Calleigh came in, and, hearing the last part of the conversation, said pointedly, "She's late."

"As always," Austin added. He turned back to Horatio. "She's got an equally serious friend. Once they get together, they just talk and lose track of time."

The front door opened noisily and a teenage girl rushed in. "Sorry I'm late." She saw Horatio, and stopped in surprise. "Oh…"

"Patti… Horatio…" Calleigh made the introductions. "Do you remember him?"

"No, sorry. Hi…"

"Hi, Patti. How are you?"

"Okay, I guess," she mumbled.

"Patti!" Calleigh scolded her. "You know you're okay. Now go and wash up. We're about to eat." She shook her head, looking after her daughter. "Teens! Happy to eat in the kitchen, Horatio?"

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

COMING HOME

Chapter 9

Horatio followed the others into the kitchen. Eric served them all with some delicious pasta, and they all ate in near-silence. Horatio watched the incredibly easy relationship of Calleigh and Eric. Despite the fact that he knew they weren't romantically involved now, they seemed like an old married couple. The two children – not that Austin was really a child any longer – were clearly comfortable, part of a loving home. _Family_… Horatio felt an odd pang of regret. For what, he wasn't quite sure.

"Seconds, anyone?" Calleigh asked.

Austin held his plate out, but everyone else professed themselves full.

"Sorry, folks…" Austin tucked into his food while the others watched. "We athletes have to keep our strength up."

Horatio caught Patti's disgusted expression and smiled inwardly. He heard her murmur, 'Pig.' He wondered if his famous rapport with children still worked. He waited until she caught his eye, and smiled at her.

"So, Patti, I've heard you're the brains round here. What's your best subject?"

"Biology," she muttered, looking down at her plate.

"Bugs," Austin added. "Go on, tell him what your ambition is."

"Shut up, Austin!" She glared at him.

"Children…" It was Eric who gently chided them, with Calleigh's full approval apparently. "You should talk to him, Pats… He's one of the best forensic investigators in the country."

"Was, not is." It was Horatio's turn to look embarrassed. "Anyway, that's just not true. I was too much a cop. Forensics interests you, Patti? Which branch?"

"Entomology."

"We could have done with a good entomologist when I was in the lab. We had to outsource that… It's an interesting field."

"It can give you so much. An exact time of death. The size of the larvae… Which insects are present…" The girl's enthusiasm was obvious. She even made eye contact with Horatio.

"Your Mom once broke a case doing autopsies on mosquitoes… Not that that required an entomologist – it was just blood-testing… Do you want to work in a crime lab? Or haven't you thought that far?"

"I've _thought._ I could stay in a university and be an independent expert."

Austin looked ready to make some remark, and he saw Calleigh shush him. Instead, she said quietly, "Why don't you two go in the other room? I'll bring dessert in to you."

Rather surprisingly, Patti agreed. Having found someone with whom to discuss her passion, her teenage awkwardness dropped away.

"I think I'd rather work in a crime lab, but I don't want to be a cop first. I hate guns. I couldn't shoot anyone."

"Don't let your Mom hear you."

"She knows. She even took me to a gun range, but I flunked it. She just doesn't understand it."

"You don't have to be a cop. If you come out of university with a good degree, any lab would be pleased to have you. I'm sure Eric's told you that."

"I couldn't have him as my boss! I don't mean anything nasty," she added quickly. "I just know him too well."

"Why not? He's good. Anyway, you're jumping the gun – sorry, no pun intended."

She grinned, revealing that she was a very pretty young lady, once her teenage sullenness had retreated.

Horatio continued. "You might move. He might change jobs. One thing I learned – have plans, but be prepared to change them. Are your grades good?"

She nodded. "Better than Austin's ever were."

"Well, he's got his tennis. Each to his own, you know." He liked this studious girl. He felt she might be the odd one out in this household. He decided to be her ally. "Look, if you feel you want to talk about it, about forensics in general, about criminal work… and you don't want to talk to Eric or your Mom… call me. I mean it. Here, I'll write my number down…"

She smiled at his old-fashioned intent and handed him her phone. "Put it in here. Under 'H' – Eric calls you that…"

He did so.

"What do I call you?" Patti asked.

"Whatever you like, as long as it's polite."

"I mean – Uncle Horatio or just Horatio? Or H? Can I call you H?"

"If you'd like to. It's reserved for friends."

Calleigh came in with two bowls of ice cream, then left them alone again.

"She's 'encouraging me to talk'," Patti observed rather cynically. "She thinks I'm too shy."

"Are you?"

"Not really. I just can't be bothered to join in all the silly chatter that goes on at school. I've got one friend – Ally - Alison – who's the same as me…"

"Boyfriends?"

Her eyes dropped. "No."

"Patti, look at me… There's no requirement to enjoy gossip, or go out with boys unless you want to. Just be confidant in yourself. Don't feel the need to prove yourself by doing what everyone else does. Do they bully you?"

"No, not really." She smiled uncertainly. "It's hard though. They tease anyone who takes their studies seriously."

"More fools them. Patti, don't suffer in silence. If it's more than teasing, talk to your Mom. Or Eric."

"Or you?"

"Of course, if you'd rather."

"Were you bullied?"

Horatio laughed. "Oh, they tried. Red hair and a name like mine. And I enjoyed my studies too."

"What did you do?"

"First, learned to fight back. Then ignored them. Once they see it's not bothering you, they lose interest. It doesn't matter what people think of you, you know. I realise I'm sounding very old, but it isn't that important to be liked." He doubted he'd convince a teenage girl. "Be yourself. Be true to yourself." He chuckled. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to preach at you."

"You're not. But it's easy to say, harder to do…"

"Isn't it always? Just keep sight of your goal – there, I'm doing it again! I'll shut up."

Eric came in to collect their dishes. "Coffee?"

The front door slammed and they heard a car pull away. Horatio raised his eyebrows, and Eric explained. "Austin, off somewhere. One of his friends picking him up. He's pestering us to buy him a car."

He went to the kitchen, and he and Calleigh came back with mugs, and a pot of coffee.

Eric continued, speaking to Calleigh, "I was telling H about Austin wanting a car…"

"I've said, when he reaches eighteen… not before. Same for you, Patti," Calleigh said firmly.

Patti pulled a face, but there was no argument. Horatio took his coffee and sipped it. _Family… _Patti disappeared to do homework, and the three adults relaxed and talked for the rest of the evening.

As Eric drove him home, he suddenly said, "You haven't lost your touch…"

"Meaning?" Horatio asked suspiciously.

"You've made a real hit with Pats. I've been told you're 'cool'."

Horatio chuckled. "And old enough to be her grandfather. She's a lovely girl."

"She doesn't make friends easily. Not one of the crowd."

"I realised that. Do you think she's being bullied?"

"Did she say so?"

"No, but I gathered there's some teasing… I tried to tell her to talk to you or Cal…"

"We'll keep an eye."

"Do you go to Calleigh's every evening?" Horatio asked curiously, then added, "Sorry, none of my business."

"It's no secret. I go once or twice a week, depending on work. Calleigh's an independent lady – you should know that! Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason. You just seemed so comfortable with each other."

"Well, we are…"

"Do you have regrets?"

"About me and Cal? Sometimes, yes, I do."

"Is it too late?"

"Oh, I think so." Eric's tone suggested he didn't want to take the conversation further. They pulled up outside Horatio's condo.

"Thanks, Eric. You were right – it did me good. I enjoyed myself." He got out of the car, and headed inside, with a cheerful wave. "See ya…"

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

COMING HOME

Chapter 10

The next few days found Horatio busy with the condo. He unpacked all his books and CDs and returned them to the shelves. He didn't need to sort them, since he had a built-in resistance to throwing out books or music. Then he turned to the other boxes that he hadn't opened in the storage unit. His pace slowed as he uncovered… memories. A photo album with pictures of his team. They used to take one every Christmas… These went back to the beginning. There was Calleigh, looking slender and girly; Megan, with whom he had never achieved a working relationship; Tim Speedle, who had died in front of him from a gunshot; and himself, ridiculously young. He turned the pages slowly. Much of his history was there. Eric, joining the group. Natalia… Frank Tripp started to appear in the pictures, a sort of honorary team member. Later, Ryan, then Walter, and Jesse… Poor Jesse, dying in a stupid freak accident… And himself, getting older. His eyes filled with tears. So many losses, so many years…

He wondered if they had kept up the Christmas tradition, and resolved to ask Eric. He thought he'd like to bring the album up to date.

There was a bundle of photos of Marisol. He had never enlarged or framed any of them, and he wasn't sure why. True, their relationship had been short, but he had a sneaking feeling of having short-changed her. Why wouldn't a man have a picture of his wife on the wall? His late wife… Perhaps he'd correct the omission. If he stayed…

He went to make a coffee, and stepped out to the balcony. He leaned on the rail and gazed at the sea. It still didn't quite feel like home. But where did? He'd been wandering for too long and was tired of it. He knew he didn't have the mental energy to pack a bag and drive away again. And, in truth, the memories of this place, of the lab, of Miami in general, were mainly good. He thought about the previous evening, of Calleigh and Eric being nothing but welcoming and glad to see him. Even if he didn't deserve their loyalty, it seemed his friends were still his friends. He'd be a fool to leave again, at least for a few years…

He returned to his boxes. It was a slow process, because he kept stopping to read, and handle things, and remember. Even so, he completed the task in time to take a short run on the beach, which relieved the growing depression, before dinner.

* * *

><p>He wasn't a great believer in to-do lists, but he knew he'd need a shopping list. Particularly for stuff for the kitchen. Seven years of uncaring tenants had left mismatched and damaged pots, plates, glasses and silverware. He knew, whatever long-term plans he made, he would not rent the place out again. He'd either stay, or sell it. For now though, he turned out cupboards and drawers, and made lists. Surprisingly, stuffed at the back of a cupboard, he found his missing drapes. Presumably someone had just disliked them… He pulled them out, and put them in the washing machine.<p>

Rather lazily, but not fancying parking, and Miami's crowds, he spent much of the morning shopping on-line. When the drapes were washed, he hung them, wet, on the existing pole. The warm breeze from the open balcony doors would dry them in no time.

He began to think about vehicles. He liked cars, but the Jeep was getting old, and was too big for his needs now. With its high mileage, he knew it wasn't worth much. Even so, he felt an odd reluctance to dispatch his trusty travel-mate to a dealer. He went back on-line to study cars. His expensive tastes were still dominant, he realised. He perused Lexus, Audi and Mercedes-Benz… Most now made 'baby' cars – compacts – but he wasn't sure he wanted one. He knew he'd have to watch his savings – he was spending money like water at the moment…

With an exchange in mind, he went downstairs, emptied and brushed out the Jeep, returned the almost unused back seats to their upright position, then took the vehicle to the car wash. And that was all he'd do today… since he had no clearer idea of what car he wanted, and he'd need a whole day to visit various dealers. He'd been lucky seven years ago. He'd bought the Jeep on a whim, and had ended up with one of the best cars he'd ever owned.

The following day was scorching hot. Not a 'visiting car dealers' sort of day. Horatio went out and bought two new recliners, and two tubs – ready-planted – _cheating, Horatio_ – of flowers, for the balcony. The garden shop was persuaded to deliver them that afternoon. By evening, sitting on the balcony, with a beer in his hand, watching the sun setting, Horatio felt the first stirrings of 'home'. It was too hot to run, and he had an early night_. __Home…_

* * *

><p>"I've heard a rumor, boss…" Ryan caught Eric, on his way through the lab.<p>

Eric paused, waiting for more. Ryan was not, by nature, a gossip, nor a listener to rumors.

"I've heard that Horatio's back."

"Where the hell did you hear that?"

"Oh… around…" Ryan said vaguely.

Eric was surprised, but not exceptionally. He knew all about the lab grapevine; knew that much of it originated in the police department. Even so…

"Is it true?"

Eric didn't think he could lie convincingly about this. "It is. I didn't know it was public knowledge."

"I really don't know where it came from. How is he?"

"He's okay. Does everyone know?"

"Pretty much. Do you think he'll come in and visit?"

"I don't know, Ryan! Not immediately, I wouldn't think. He's got to settle in…"

"I understand, but the old hands want to see him, and the new ones want to meet him."

Eric chuckled. Even after seven years, Horatio still made waves.

"Leave him alone for now, Ryan. I'm sure he'll get curious about the new lab before long."

Ryan nodded, and went on his way. Eric returned to his office. He thought he should warn Horatio, and picked up the phone.

"H? How you doing?"

"Fine. Thinking about changing cars… I'm thinking about buying used, rather than new. Avoid the depreciation hit. Though I'll miss the new car smell."

"You can buy that smell in a spray, you know. Dealers use it. Look, you should know… word seems to have got out that you're back in Miami. Now it wasn't me, and I doubt it was Calleigh…"

"It's not a secret really… Anyway, I met… oh, what's his name? Lopez? Short tubby guy… One of the uniforms – PD, I mean. I met him in the garden place – he seemed to recognise me… We gave each other a sort of doubtful smile. It's probably come from there."

"Probably. So you're all right with it?"

"Have to be. I just don't want… visitors. Apart from you and Cal, of course. But the others never did visit my home, so there's no reason they should start."

"They want you to come in and see the new lab."

"I will. I'd like to see it. I drove past the old place a couple of days back – empty and covered in scaffolding." He sounded sad. "So I will come in. Just not yet. Give me time."

"Do you want any more help from me? Looking at cars, for instance?"

"Only if you want to. I haven't decided what I want yet. Aren't you busy?"

Eric chuckled. "Very, but I like looking at cars."

* * *

><p>The next day, when he called, Eric was too busy, and Horatio trawled the dealers alone. By lunchtime, he was no nearer deciding, and had received depressing offers on the Jeep. True, he could sell it privately, but the hassle was too much. After a quick sandwich, he headed for the largest used car dealer in the city. Acres of vehicles, all makes…<p>

He walked slowly along lines of compacts, Ford, Chrysler, Honda… but he was drawn inexorably towards the 'luxury' end. He paused by a Jaguar roadster. Barely six months old, and well outside his budget. Anyway, he argued with himself, a soft-top seemed to indicate an old man trying to be young. And convertibles were less suited to Miami's weather than one might suppose. There were sudden unexpected downpours, and, in truth, he preferred the comfort of air-conditioning. He walked on, pausing in front of a snow-white Mercedes-Benz coupe.

A keen-eyed salesman approached. "It's a lovely vehicle, Sir… Two years old. _Very_ low mileage…"

Horatio said, "Mmm," non-committedly. It was though. Understated, compared with some. All the curves in the right places.

The salesman hopped into the car. "Listen." He started the engine and a deep-throated growl came from under the hood. Horatio smiled faintly. The salesman blipped the throttle and a powerful roar emanated from the car. Horatio couldn't stop his grin.

As the salesman joined him, Horatio said, "Wow, that is the sexiest noise I've heard from a vehicle in a long time."

"AMG engine." At Horatio's questioning look, he elaborated. "Subsidiary of Benz – they make their racing engines. Here, take it out for a while."

He got into the passenger seat, while Horatio took the driver's. As he eased the car out of the lot and onto the highway, he realised everything about it appealed, from the cocooning leather seats, to the handling – light but not too light – to the throaty engine. He could feel the power there, even if there was nowhere to test it.

The salesman sensed a done deal. "You like?"

"I do. It's more than I intended to pay."

"Do you have a trade-in?"

"Yes, but it may not interest you. Jeep, high mileage…"

"Oh, I'm sure we can do something. Let's take her back and go and talk turkey."

TBC


End file.
